


Lessons Learned

by Unfeathered



Series: Lessons Learned [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Light Bondage, M/M, Mild Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-11-04
Updated: 2007-11-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:47:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22455985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unfeathered/pseuds/Unfeathered
Summary: There's a lesson Jack needs to learn here, and it's not how to get someone in bed. He's quite good enough at that already. If he wasn't, they wouldn't have to be here now.
Relationships: Ninth Doctor/Jack Harkness, The Doctor/Jack Harkness
Series: Lessons Learned [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1702681
Comments: 6
Kudos: 47





	Lessons Learned

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](https://unfeathered.livejournal.com/42045.html) on 4 November 2007. Beta'd by [mad_jaks](https://mad_jaks.livejournal.com/).

"Captain. My bedroom. Now."

Jack's eyebrows shoot upwards, his expression quickly turning to a leer as the word 'bedroom' sinks in. Rose, clinging to his arm, breathless and laughing from their near escape from Outpost Twenty-Six, stares open-mouthed. Jack draws breath to speak but doesn't get further than, "I don't know where…?" before the Doctor tells him precisely and succinctly how to get to his bedroom.

At the end of the directions, the Doctor points and puts all his anger into a roar. "Now!"

Jack shrugs, grins a little shamefacedly at Rose, and heads for the stairs.

He doesn't, the Doctor notices, argue. Or question. Or try to get out of whatever the Doctor has planned for him.

Interesting.

Rose turns to him. "What was all that about?"

The Doctor shrugs. "Captain Jack needs to be taken down a peg or two."

"But… Your _bedroom_?"

He gives her his very best happy-go-lucky grin to disarm her, because he really doesn't want to have to talk to Rose about exactly what it is that Jack needs. "At least I know he can't get up to anything in there."

She shrugs, trusting him as she always does. "Okay."

The Doctor watches her head off to her room, gets the TARDIS to check she's got there safely, then squares his shoulders and sets off down the stairs to see to Captain Jack Harkness.

* * *

Jack's standing near the Doctor's display cabinet, playing with a green, oozing, shape-shifting blob that's an executive stress toy from… somewhere – he can't remember, he's had it so long. The Doctor coughs pointedly and Jack takes one quick look at him and puts the toy back into its container, where it slowly spreads until it fills the pot.

"Quite an escape, eh?" Jack says, with a chirpiness that sounds a tiny bit forced.

The Doctor is still breathing hard with fear and anger. He looks at Jack and reflects on how lucky they were to escape at all. He's glad Jack's cheerfulness isn't coming easily to him right now, because if he thought it was genuine, Jack would be out the door on his arse. And he doesn't want to have to kick Jack off his ship.

He says, flatly, "Get undressed and lie on the bed."

Presumably his tone goes unnoticed, because Jack's face lights up, apparently with relief. Stripping and getting into bed are things he's used to. He has his jacket off and is halfway over to the coat stand when he pauses and looks back at the Doctor. "Have to admit: not quite the response I was expecting."

"And you're not getting what you're expecting now, either," the Doctor growls.

"I think I know what to expect from being in someone's bedroom and told to strip! Though," Jack adds, glancing up as he unlaces his boots, blue eyes twinkling, "I don't usually need to be told."

The Doctor doesn't answer, because if he answers he's going to end up bantering with Jack, and he's still angry and he's not going to let Jack charm his way out of this one. There's a lesson Jack needs to learn here, and it's not how to get someone in bed. He's quite good enough at that already. If he wasn't, they wouldn't have to be here now.

Unsurprisingly, Jack doesn't take long to strip, and he doesn't seem to feel any self-consciousness about standing naked in front of a fully-dressed Time Lord either. What _is_ surprising is that taking orders in the bedroom seems to be something he's not used to.

Which seems odd to the Doctor, since outside the bedroom, taking orders is what Jack does best.

Well. Except when he gets distracted from following them, which is why they're here.

He stares at Jack, too angry to enjoy what he sees. He needs to get on with this before he calms down, so he only stares for a moment, then flicks his eyes towards the bed and back to Jack's face.

Jack finally seems to get the message. His chin tilts up in a tiny gesture of either defiance or acceptance – the Doctor's still trying to decide which when Jack asks, with more of that surprising uncertainty, "Front or back?"

"Back," the Doctor says tersely, and sees a flicker of surprise in Jack's eyes. Presumably, once Jack had realised this wasn't going to be just a quick, aggressive fuck to work off the Doctor's anger, he'd started to expect a more traditional form of punishment: a spanking, or worse.

But that's not how the Doctor likes to play; at least, not as punishment. He prefers to teach by example. Jack's not getting spanked.

Not today, anyway.

Jack goes over to the Doctor's big, Nineteenth Century, iron-framed bed and climbs up. The Doctor watches, expression unchanging, as Jack lies down in the middle of the bed, briefly raises his head to look down the length of his body at the Doctor, then sighs and lets it flop back against the pillows so all he can see is the ceiling.

"Good lad," the Doctor says, a little more kindly, because this evidently isn't easy for Jack. Even so, he's not inclined to be gentle. He needs to make the position clear, and gentleness isn't going to do it.

He leaves Jack there for a moment while he takes off his jacket and crosses to hang the heavy leather on the stand with Jack's bomber jacket. He's aware of Jack shifting slightly on the bed, getting comfortable, and allows him time to do it. When the sounds stop, he walks to the end of the bed. Jack looks more relaxed now, at least physically, long legs slightly spread, arms loose at his sides, breathing even. He's even half-hard. But his eyes are glittering with trepidation, because he obviously has no idea what's coming next. And the Doctor smiles. Because after today's escapades, he'd started to be afraid that he'd been wrong about Jack. That there actually weren't layers beneath the flirt, that inviting him along with the TARDIS was going to be more trouble than it was worth. But this… Jack's obviously not used to this (and how unexpected is that, from Mr 'I've seen everything'?) and yet he's doing it. The Doctor gets the impression he's willing to do whatever it takes to be forgiven for his foolishness.

It's possible that Jack's taken the Doctor's smile the wrong way, because he relaxes a bit more, and says curiously, "Why your room? Why not mine?"

Or possibly he's just nervous and trying to cover it with conversation.

"Because I don't know if you've got what I need in there," the Doctor replies, heading round the side of the bed for the chest of drawers.

He hears Jack snort, and doesn't blame him because, honestly, the idea that Jack Harkness's room might not contain everything a man might need to have sex is pretty laughable. He doesn't answer the snort, though, because actually he's _not_ sure Jack has what he's delving into the third drawer for now. Instead he says, truthfully, "And I feel more comfortable in my own room."

"Just didn't expect you to let me in here any time soon. Or ever."

"Wasn't planning on it myself just yet, either. But… Ah. Here we are."

He's aware of Jack straining to see what's in his hands as he withdraws them, and he holds them up obligingly. Two grey silk ties. Not identical – because honestly, who has two identical ties? And this regeneration doesn't wear ties anyway – but close enough in colour to give a feeling of symmetry. He likes his ties to match when he's using them to tie someone up.

Jack relaxes back onto the bed. "Ah. No, I don't have any of those."

The Doctor rolls his eyes. "I knew you weren't buying clothes in Oxford Street last week!"

"Hey, a guy needs supplies! And I did buy clothes – just not ties. I do have other things that would do the job, though." Jack looks the Doctor up and down with a lascivious eye. "Anyway, it's not like you wear them either!"

The Doctor sighs. "Just shut up, will you?"

"Hey, you asked me a question!"

"And now I'm saying shut up. Doctor's prerogative."

He finishes this statement with one of his quick, smug grins. Jack gives him a humorous grimace in return and shuts up. He waits a moment, breathing deeply, then slowly, deliberately, not taking his eyes off the Doctor's, he raises his arms until they rest on the pillows beside his head, ready to be tied.

Without comment the Doctor climbs up onto the bed to kneel next to Jack, reaches for his right wrist – and pauses. "Thought I told you to get undressed."

"I did!" Jack blinks, completely nonplussed.

It takes the Doctor's fingernail tapping against his wrist computer for him to get it.

"That? 'S not clothes!"

"It's near enough. Take it off."

Jack rolls his eyes as he complies, but he fumbles the buckle with fingers turned unusually clumsy and there's a pulse beating hard in his neck as he mutely hands the wristband over to the Doctor.

The Doctor makes a show of setting it safely aside on the chest of drawers, and by the time he turns back Jack's arms are in position again. His eyes are drawn to the wide stripe of paler skin where the wrist computer was and he wonders if Jack ever takes it off, except to wash. It doesn't look like it.

His fingers close over Jack's wrist finally and position it neatly next to one of the rungs in the bedstead. He wraps one of the ties round the bar, makes a figure of an eight round Jack's wrist and back round the bar again and ties it off. Jack watches, as if to check he's doing it right, then flexes his arm against the silk. The Doctor sits back and watches him test it to his own satisfaction.

"Comfy?"

Jack's grin has gone, his face serious. "Perfectly."

The Doctor nods and reaches for Jack's other wrist.

When both are secure, he slides off the side of the bed and stalks round to the bottom of it. Stares down at Jack while he wriggles a bit. Waits again till he relaxes.

Then he says, "Right then, Captain. Do you know what we're doing here?"

"Besides the obvious?" Jack glances at one bound wrist, then back at the Doctor. "Haven't a clue."

"Better start thinking, then, hadn't you?"

Jack's eyes narrow suspiciously. "Why?"

The Doctor takes two paces forward, which bring him right up to the foot of the bed. "Because you don't get to come until you work it out."

"Oh yeah?" Jack's smirking, of all things. "And what am I not going to come from? 'Cos really – not an issue at the moment."

The Doctor quirks an eyebrow and glances down at Jack's cock, which has got a lot harder since he tied him up. His breathing is slightly fast too, and his pupils are definitely dilated. He might not be anywhere near coming, but he's definitely aroused.

Setting one knee on the bed between Jack's feet, the Doctor plants his hands just to the outsides of Jack's thighs, and gets up onto the bed between Jack's legs. He looks up at Jack, aware of the human nerves tingling at his not-quite-touching, and meets Jack's playful gaze with a hard stare of his own. "Are you challenging me, Captain?"

Jack does a little wiggle, which sets his muscles moving in tiny ripples beneath his skin, and grins, baring his teeth. "Show me what you got, Doctor!"

Definitely a challenge. The Doctor grins, momentarily forgetting he's angry, and lowers his head towards Jack's erection.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Jack's not looking so arrogant. He's panting and sweating and straining against his bonds; his head is thrown back against the pillows and he's doing his absolute utmost to thrust upwards into the Doctor's mouth. He's not getting very far, however, because the Doctor has all the leverage and the Doctor is holding his hips firmly down. There are going to be bruises, he's pressing so hard. He doesn't think Jack will mind.

He breaks contact with Jack's cock abruptly and looks up at him. Jack groans, and tries even harder to thrust upwards, and the Doctor can't help but feel a little sorry for the hot, hard, cock abandoned thus. That doesn't deter him from the lesson being taught here, though.

"Any thoughts, Captain?"

Jack opens his eyes and glares down his body at the Doctor.

"You're evil?"

The Doctor gives him a self-satisfied grin. "I learned from the best. Anything else?"

Jack's brow furrows. "Uh – I'm sorry?"

 _That's more like it._ "What for?"

"For flirting?"

"Well, that's part of it, yeah."

"OK. For leaving the TARDIS, then."

 _Better._ "Yes, why _did_ you leave the TARDIS, Captain?" This is what the Doctor can't understand. "You were supposed to be there, getting her ready so that _when_ Rose and I got back with the parts we could install them and leave immediately. Not off shagging some pretty bird three miles away!"

"Hey, she wasn't just some random bird! Nina and I go way back! How could I know she was deliberately luring me out of the TARDIS?"

"Old flame or not, if you didn't make such a big thing of flirting with everyone, she wouldn't have known it was a good bet you'd come running when she called you. And Rose wouldn't have had to come and rescue you and find you naked and handcuffed to your _old flame's_ bed, and I wouldn't have had to fight off your _old flame_ as she tried to steal my TARDIS!"

"I'm sorry! I didn't know!"

The Doctor looks up at Jack gravely, because he needs Jack to get this.

"Seems like I've heard that from you before, Captain. This time I need to know you really mean it. That you'll do better. Because I only take the best, and I need you to be that."

He keeps his eyes locked on Jack's for a moment longer, watching the message sink into the wide, anxious blue eyes. Then he bends his head and blows cool air over the moist tip of Jack's cock.

Jack flings his head back. "Fuck," he breathes, eyes closing fleetingly before opening again. They meet the Doctor's in an anguished stare. "I – look – I don't know what you want from me!"

"Then work it out, Captain. You're not stupid. Think about it, and work it out." The Doctor wraps a hand round Jack's erection, slides it down the shaft and up again, eliciting a low moan. He grins, starting to enjoy himself at last because even if he is still angry, he knows Jack isn't going to make the same mistake again. "Take your time. I'm in no hurry."

That gets him a furious glare, to which he responds by fastening his lips tightly round the head of the cock in his hand and glancing flirtatiously up at Jack. Jack's hips flex upwards, with more result than before because the Doctor's grip has relaxed somewhat. The Doctor immediately pushes him down again, just to make a point. At some stage, he's sure, Jack will get what that point is.

* * *

It doesn't take long before Jack starts to shudder, his entire body tensing. "Oh, fuck!" he cries, and then yells as the Doctor's fingers clamp down painfully on the base of his cock. Jack's eyes fly open and he glowers down at the Doctor, who lifts his head and looks back at him, unperturbed.

"Sorry, lad, you don't get out of it that way," he says.

Jack pants, his control still precarious. "How am I supposed to think when you're doing this to me?" he asks plaintively.

"You managed to think about sex and business at the same time earlier on. Or at least, you thought you could."

Something flickers behind Jack's eyes, and he stills, frowning. "All right," he says slowly, making an obvious effort to calm down and think. "You’re mad at me for flirting. I get that. I allowed myself to get lured away from my post and I shouldn't have done. And I’m sorry. I should know better."

"Yes, you should."

The Doctor doesn't resume the blowjob, or congratulate him, and Jack tips his head back against the pillows in defeat. “You want more than _that_?"

"Yeah." The Doctor watches him for a moment, then decides, generously, to help him along. He dips his head again and swirls his tongue round the tip of Jack's cock, delving into the slit and swiping the sensitive spot where the foreskin used to be joined, until Jack bucks helplessly up into his mouth. Or at least, tries to – because the Doctor's still holding him down. He's not giving Jack a choice about this.

He _feels_ the moment Jack gets it.

He waits a second, giving Jack one last long suck so there's a pop when his cock finally slips out of the Doctor's mouth. He lifts his head to look up at Jack, more warmly than he has since they got back. "What's the lesson, Captain?"

But Jack's not going to admit defeat that easily. He raises a suggestive eyebrow and says pertly, "Screwing up will get me bondage and a really great blowjob?"

For that, the Doctor _bites_ him – not hard, but not gently either – and Jack cringes and whimpers and thrashes against his bonds for a moment. The Doctor waits for him to be still, and then asks the question again.

"What's the lesson, Captain?"

It still takes a moment. Jack swallows, and looks away briefly. Then his eyes meet the Doctor's again and they're honest and sincere. He says quietly, seriously, "The lesson is that you're in charge."

The Doctor lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, and smiles at Jack, happy and approving. "Yes, lad. I'm in charge. My ship, my companions, my rules – I'm in charge. Don't go forgetting it again."

"I'm sorry," Jack says again, but this time softly and with a sureness that makes the Doctor feel weak with relief.

And the Doctor grins. "Fantastic! Right then, Captain, let's get this thing finished!"

* * *

Jack's orgasm is one of the noisiest the Doctor has ever known. There's no warning, no holding back. Jack _roars_ as he comes, muscles straining, eyes wide and staring, mouth open. He's beautiful.

And not only on the outside – though that’s stunning enough (fuzzy haircut aside). He's beautiful on the inside too. Yes, he's made mistakes, been a bit stupid, got a bit lost. But doesn't everyone, at some point? And Jack regrets those mistakes and he wants to fix them, to make things right, to be a better person. And whatever Jack sets out to do, he does with total enthusiasm. He's going to be one hell of a man when he gets there.

The Doctor watches with affection as Jack slowly comes down from his climax. Then he clambers over Jack's leg to kneel beside him instead, and reaches to untie him. He works carefully, aware of Jack watching him but concentrating on the job of easing open the knots. One wrist comes free, and Jack carefully brings his arm down to his side, rolling his shoulder and neck while the Doctor works on his other arm. When that's free too, the Doctor takes each wrist in turn and rubs briskly to get the blood flowing again. Then while Jack pushes himself up to a sitting position, the Doctor leans over to the chest of drawers and retrieves the wrist computer. Jack takes it with a quiet, "Thanks," and puts it on again. Then he looks round at the Doctor. "So… things all right between us now?"

"Yeah. I think we've reached an understanding." The Doctor takes a deep breath. "I'm not going to say 'No more flirting' because that would just be cruel, and I don't think you could do it. Flirting is almost like breathing, to you." Jack grins, and the Doctor continues hastily, " _But_ … Just for now, while we get ourselves sorted out – you want to fuck, you do it with me. No-one else. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir!"

The Doctor winces slightly, because 'Sir' is just a bit too 'armed forces' for him. But Jack's a soldier; it's what he's used to. The Doctor decides he can live with it, if it gets him the respect he needs from his new companion.

So he accepts the title without comment, and narrows his eyes instead at how readily Jack appears to be agreeing to his ultimatum. "Thought you'd object to that one," he admits.

"Hey, if that blowjob is anything to go by, I don't think I _need_ anyone else!"

The Doctor can't help preening at that, because he wasn't sure quite how he'd match up to Jack's Fifty-First Century standards, and Jack grins, then sobers and asks, "I guess Rose is off limits too?"

"Oh, yes," the Doctor says heavily. "No way either of us are going there."

Jack nods, accepting. "Wouldn't do that anyway. Rose is special. Don't want to hurt her."

Which leaves the Doctor a bit breathless, because he hadn't foreseen such a depth of understanding from Captain Jack. Maybe he still has some reassessing to do.

Then Jack leers at him, lightening the mood, and glances down at the Doctor's jeans which are not doing much to hide the fact that watching Jack come has had a bit of an effect on the Doctor. "Want me to reciprocate?"

The Doctor raises his eyebrows. "You've got a lesson to teach me?"

"Well… You do pretty well for a Time Lord. But yeah, as a Fifty-First Century guy, there's still a thing or two I could teach you…"

"All right then, Captain." The Doctor slithers down a bit, grabs an extra pillow to cushion his back against the bars, and looks at Jack tauntingly. "Come on. Show me what you've got."

**Author's Note:**

> A sequel by [mad_jaks](https://mad_jaks.livejournal.com/) can be found here: [Show and Tell](http://itsarift-thing.livejournal.com/21603.html#cutid1).


End file.
